


Baby's First Christmas

by rabidchild67



Series: Five Times... [19]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Christmas, Multi, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 02:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Neal, Peter and El’s son’s first Christmas and he gets… a lot of really inappropriate gifts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby's First Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Though this is part of a series, there is no need to read the others; the story thus far: Neal, Peter and El are together in a happy, polyamorous relationship, and El has just had a baby, Peter John Burke-Caffrey. The timing: December, about 2.5 years post-anklet.

**From: Aunt June**

“June!” Elizabeth trilled happily, opening her door wider to allow her guest to enter. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Elizabeth, darling,” June replied, leaning forward to accept a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so sorry to drop in unannounced, and I know you must be busy.”

“Not at all; I just put the baby down for a nap.” 

As El reached to close the door behind her, June put a hand on her wrist. “I’ve brought you something.”

El watched as June’s driver and another man she didn’t recognize removed a large bundle from the trunk of the Bentley. 

“I was going through the basement, you know, getting rid of some old junk, and I came across this and thought of you immediately. You must let me know if it is too big or something, but I simply had to bring it right over. It’s perfect for little Peter.”

El stood back as the men brought the thing in, and watched as they unraveled the blankets from around it. Inside was an antique wooden baby’s cradle with intricate carvings of Noah’s ark, with all the animals traipsing two-by-two along its sides. “It’s exquisite!” she said, crouching down and running her fingertips along the burnished mahogany.

“I’m so pleased you like it! I used it when both my boys were born, and it’s been sitting unused for ages. Shall I have Watkins bring it upstairs?”

“No, I’m sure Peter and Neal will manage it later. Can I get you all some tea?”

\----

“Where’d the cradle come from?” Neal asked, entering the kitchen and kissing El hello. She was rinsing greens at the sink and giggled as his rough and scratchy beard tickled her ear.

“Isn’t it adorable? June brought it by this afternoon. She said she was cleaning out her basement and thought we could use it. I suppose once PJ outgrows his bassinet, he’d fit pretty well.”

“You sure you want to use it?” he asked, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we?”

“Well, it’s worth over $50,000.”

El turned and looked at him, open-mouthed. “You’re joking.”

“No, it’s been in her house for ages. Moz had it appraised for her a few years back – supposed to have been used by Queen Victoria back in the 1840’s. She’s got the documentation for the provenance and everything.”

El began to shake nervously. “Get it out of the house,” she said, practically hyperventilating.

“What?”

“Neal, I can’t have something like _that_ in here! What if the dog scratches it? What if the baby pukes all over it?”

“You can’t return June’s gift, Elizabeth, it’d be an insult.”

“She made it sound like she was about to toss it on the scrap heap.”

“She probably didn’t want you to be worried about it.”

“Well, you’ve got that right! What are we going to do with it?”

He took her in his arms and kissed the tip of her nose. “I think we should do as June intended, and lay our son inside it. It was made to hold a child, and that’s why June gave it to us.”

“I don’t know how you can be so calm about this.”

“It’s a skill.” He released her and went to look at the cradle more carefully. “Is that gold inlay?” he called out to her and she nearly fainted. 

 

**From: Auntie Diana**

“Hi, Peter.”

“Hey, Di,” Peter said, looking up from his computer. “What’s that?” Diana held out the gift she carried and walked into his office. “I thought we agreed, no presents this year?”

“I know,” she said sheepishly, “but that’s for the baby, so it doesn’t count.”

Peter smiled at her. “Should I unwrap it now?” She nodded and he carefully slid the paper open. “Oh…it’s a tiny…toy…Glock.” Peter hoped his smile didn’t look too forced.

“Isn’t it cute?” she asked, grinning from ear to ear. “I had one just like it when I was a kid.”

“Really? Well, that explains a lot.”

“I know, right?”

“So, wow – thanks. I’m sure El will get a total kick!”

“Great. Well – Merry Christmas, boss.”

“To you too, Di. Take care.” Peter watched her go and shoved the toy into his bottom drawer. There was no way his wife would let it near the baby, of that he was certain.

 

 **From: Uncle Moz**

Neal glanced up into the rearview mirror at El; they were at a stop light, two blocks from home, and she sat in the back seat beside the baby seat. “How’s he doing?”

“Sleeping, finally,” she said, smoothing out his blankets. 

“He was such a champ at his one-month check-up, wasn’t he?” He couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice… Baby PJ had not fussed at all during the exam, and took his inoculations without a peep. 

“Mm-hmm.”

“And what about you, Elizabeth? How are _you_ doing?” he asked with a smile as he hit the gas again. This was PJ’s first foray outside since they’d brought him home from the hospital, and she had been tense and nervous all day.

“Better now. Thanks for putting up with my craziness.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it crazy. Mildly kooky, perhaps.”

She laughed, but as Neal glanced up at their home, the smile left his face. “Elizabeth, did you leave the lights on?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said, peering out of the window towards the house. “What is it?”

Neal parked the car up the block and turned around to look at her. “There’s a light on in PJ’s room. I don’t like it.”

“Neal,” she said, placing a gloved hand on his forearm. “It’s probably nothing.”

“You’re right. But stay here until I get back, OK?”

Neal jumped out of the car and jogged up the block, letting himself in through the front door as quietly as he could. He noted with dread that the alarm had been disengaged; frowning, he headed for the stairs, taking them as gently as possible, placing his feet at their edges to minimize the creaking. It crossed his mind as he stepped on the third floor landing that he should have considered grabbing a weapon.

 _WOOF!_ Satchmo barked as he hauled himself to his feet and came trotting over to Neal, tail wagging. There was a startled intake of breath inside the baby’s bedroom, followed by the appearance of a bald, bespectacled head poking around the corner. 

“Neal!” Moz said somewhat scoldingly. “You scared me!”

“I scared you?” Neal said, relaxing. Satchmo took the opportunity to insert his head under Neal’s hand and he patted the dog and moved into the baby’s room. “What are you doing?”

“Installing a surveillance system,” Moz replied, then went back to wiring something under the mattress of the baby’s cradle. “You can’t be too careful these days.”

“Moz,” Neal began.

“I’ve got motion sensors on the windows – that security system the Suit’s got downstairs is rudimentary at best. Also, there are video cameras there,” he pointed at a large teddy bear in the rocking chair; “there,” he indicated what was clearly a brand lamp on the dresser; “and there,” and he pointed at a large, clown-shaped doll on a shelf. 

Neal shuddered. “No clowns, Moz.”

Moz, affronted, got up and took the thing down. “Knew I should have gone with the lambie.” He tossed the clown into the hall and Satchmo gave chase.

“And what are you doing with the mattress?”

“Motion sensors there as well; so you will be able to monitor little Peter’s breathing. SIDS is no laughing matter, Neal.” He went back to work. 

“Moz, why are you doing this?”

“Safety first, Neal. Consider it my Christmas present.”

“I think PJ’s safe here, Moz.”

“You can’t be too cocky about that, Neal. Did you see that story last week where the baby was in the back of a carjacked car in Philadelphia?”

“Yes, but...”

“And that fire down in Atlanta? Three kids died! And that missing girl in LA? Neal, you have to be vigilant.”

“Moz, come on, don’t you think the son of an FBI agent is going to be pretty secure? What’s this really about?”

Moz stared at his hands. “I have to look out for the little nipper is all.”

“He has lots of people looking out for him.”

“Well, some kids never have enough and I just –“ he sighed. “There wasn’t anyone looking out for me, Neal, and I was left at an orphanage.”

Neal sighed and nodded, then rested his hand on Moz’s shoulder. “I’ll ignore the suggestion that any of us would leave our son with total strangers and instead focus on your abandonment issues, OK?”

Moz sighed and got to his feet.

“I know where you’re coming from on this, and I appreciate your thoroughness and, uh, zeal in protecting my son, Moz, I really do. But there really is no reason to fear for his safety. Why don’t you focus on more constructive outlets for your energy? Like knitting, maybe.” Moz gave him a look and Neal continued. “PJ is really lucky to have an Uncle Mozzie to look out for him – can’t we just leave it to you to take him to the park a couple times a week and maybe teach him to roller skate some day?”

“OK, so maybe I went a little overboard,” Moz allowed. Neal gave him a _you think?_ look. “Now I wish you’d gotten here earlier – before I sewed RFID tags inside all his clothes.”

 

**From: Sara Ellis**

Peter walked into the bedroom and caught sight of his wife lying supine on their bed, attempting to zip up a pair of pants. “What’s going on, hon?” he asked, cocking his head sideways.

El made a frustrated noise and sat up, looking dejected. “Sara is coming over for lunch today and I was hoping to get into my pre-pregnancy jeans.”

“Hon, you had the baby a month ago,” Peter pointed out. “Your boobs aren’t even pre-pregnancy yet.”

“My boobs look fantastic,” she said as she pushed the jeans down her legs. “It’s the rest of me I’m not in love with.”

“Why do you even care?”

“She’s Neal’s ex,” she explained.

“So?”

“So I have to look good or else she wins.”

“Wins what?”

She looked at Peter like he was simple and went to root around in her closet, leaving her husband to shake his head in confusion.

\----

“Sara, hi!” El said, throwing the door wide, wondering when her voice got to be as high-pitched as a tween. “Come in!”

“Elizabeth,” Sara said, her voice as smooth as chocolate. She leaned over and kissed El’s cheek, then breezed into the front room.”This is for the baby,” she said, handing El a large, flat box with wrappings El recognized meant the gift was from Barney’s.

“Thank you so much. Let me take your coat.” When Sara removed her coat, El saw she was wearing a stunning black Mugler dress with Christian Louboutin peeptoe pumps. El looked down at her own oversized button-down and leggings and felt a little bit inadequate.

Sara noticed her scrutiny and smiled self-consciously. “Sorry I’m so dressed-up, but it’s the company holiday dinner tonight at _Daniel_ , so…”

“Oh, of course!” El said, waving her hand. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” 

“Should I open this?” El asked, indicating the present, and Sara nodded. Inside was a ridiculously expensive cashmere baby blanket she and Neal had picked out as a joke one afternoon during a baby registry orgy in Manhattan; neither of them had expected anyone to buy it. She knew the thing cost over $900, and she looked up at Sara, confused.

“I hope you haven’t already gotten it?” Sara said, worry creasing her otherwise flawless brow. 

“Oh no. Thank you so much, it’s incredibly generous of you. Can I get you something to drink?” 

El led her to the kitchen and got her a glass of iced tea and then went to plate their lunch – poached salmon and a bitter green salad that Neal had thrown together for her before he left for the office that morning. 

“So, I guess you’re still eating for two?” Sara asked halfway through the meal.

El looked down self-consciously at the second, heaping portion of salad she’d taken for herself. “Yes, I suppose I am,” she answered, flustered. She pushed her plate away. “You know how it is when you’re breast feeding.” Sara looked out the window and El got to her feet. “Shall I clear up?”

Sara rose to help and El was about to refuse when a whimper from the baby monitor alerted El to the fact that PJ was stirring. She knew he’d be hungry, so she excused herself, leaving Sara sitting in the living room while she ran up the stairs.

“Who’s awake?” she said, a big grin on her face as she lifted the baby from his crib. He cooed when she got near to him, twitching his little arms and smiling up at her. She took him to the changing table and hummed tunelessly as she changed him, then dressed him in an adorable little sweater with a penguin on the front that her sister had gotten for him. “Want to go see Auntie Sara?” she said as she headed for the stairs. “Here we are!” she said as they got to the first floor. 

Sara, ever the thoughtful guest, had cleared the table and was standing beside the baby monitor, apparently loading the dishwasher. “Oh! Oh, my,” she said, crossing over to El and standing at the edge of the dining room. “He’s so precious. He looks just like Neal, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, I suppose he does. Mozzie thinks it’s some evolutionary throwback to ensure that fathers don’t eat their young.”

Sara blinked. “That Moz, he sure is a character.”

“My mom says he’ll change a lot the first year. I suppose he’ll look like me soon enough.” PJ whimpered and El looked around the room. “Well, he’s going to need his own lunch right now.” She went over to the easy chair in the living room and sat, unbuttoned her blouse and set about feeding her son. 

“Well, I see he’s taken well to nursing,” Sara said, her voice strained. When El looked up, she was staring at a point just over El’s shoulder. 

“He eats like a champ.”

“Is it easy? I mean, dealing with all of this baby stuff?”

“It wasn’t at first, but lately we’ve established a routine. And Peter and Neal have been so helpful and supportive.”

“You’re very lucky.”

“Thanks, I agree.” El smiled and gazed down at her peacefully nursing little bundle. Before long, he was done, and El looked up at Sara. “Would you like to hold him?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said uneasily.

El got up and brought him to where Sara sat on the couch. “Here you go,” El said gently, settling him into her arms. I want to go and make some coffee for us – I hope decaf’s all right?”

“Sure,” Sara said stiffly, looking down at PJ.

“Don’t worry, you won’t break him.” El went into the kitchen to make the coffee. When it was done, she brought it in on a tray, but stopped short at the edge of the room. Sara had her head bent forward and was sniffling. There was no doubt to El that she was crying.

“What is it?” El said, laying the coffee tray down on the table and grabbing a napkin. “Did he spit up on your dress?”

“No, no. Well, yeah, but it’s not that. It’s just… I mean… you’re so _lucky-ee-eeeee_!” Sara was sobbing now. Elizabeth took a seat beside her on the couch, and handed her the napkin.

“My life’s a mess, I hate it,” Sara cried. “It’s nothing but work and endless travel and eating out in restaurants...”

“Gee, it sounds horrible.”

“I know! I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in six months. Well, not until today anyway. And the salmon was really goo-oo-ood.”

“Oh, honey, come on,” El said, pulling Sara to her and letting her rest her head on her shoulder while she cried it out. PJ, for his part, seemed to be soothed by the crying woman and soon fell asleep. 

Eventually, Sara sat up, smiling apologetically at Elizabeth. “I’m sorry to lay all my problems on you,” she sniffed.

“Please don’t worry about it. Sounds like you just need to try to focus on your own life and your needs for a while. The rest will come, I promise.”

“Thanks for the pep talk. Sometimes I forget how important it is to have a girl friend to talk to.” 

“Happy to oblige.”

Sara smiled and settled back into the couch, gazing lovingly at the sleeping boy in her arms. “He really is darling, Elizabeth.” 

PJ made a huge farting noise and sighed. “Not so darling when there’s poop.”

Sara laughed. “Can I change him?” she asked, and El would normally have demurred, but the woman looked like she actually wanted to, so she nodded. They got up and El led Sara up the stairs. 

“This has really been fun, thanks for letting me come by today,” Sara said as she redressed the baby.

“Do you really have to go to your party tonight?” El said. “Maybe you could hang out with us instead. I mean, it’s just spaghetti night, but Neal makes a killer carbonara.”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“No, and Peter and Neal would love to see you.”

“Thanks, that’d be really great,” Sara said with a happy smile as El took PJ and laid him in his crib.

“And it looks like I win,” El said under her breath.

“I’m sorry?” Sara asked.

“I said, I wonder if you’d like to play a few hands of gin?”

 

**From: Auntie Alex**

_It’s Alex. Leave me a message. BEEP_

“Alex, hey, it’s Neal. Listen, I just got the Christmas gift you sent for the baby and, uh, well, I don’t think we can accept it. Can you call me back?”

_This is Neal and you’ve reached my voice mail. Please leave your name and a brief message at the tone. BEEP_

“Neal, it’s me. What do you mean you can’t accept the gift? I made sure the colors matched the baby’s room and everything. Come on, you know he’ll love it when he’s old enough to appreciate it. Don’t make me take it back.”

_It’s Alex. Leave me a message. BEEP_

“Alex, come on, this is too generous. I mean, surely there’s something more appropriate you could have sent. Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, honestly. Call me back.”

_This is Neal and you’ve reached my voice mail. Please leave your name and a brief message at the tone. BEEP_

“Jeez, Neal, fine, I’ll come by to pick it up next week. I guess I’ll just get you a freaking Baby Gap gift card or whatever. I hate straight you, you’re so boring. Merry Christmas.”

_It’s Alex. Leave me a message. BEEP_

“Hi Alex, it’s Neal. Glad to hear there are no hard feelings. Please note the sarcasm in my voice. Not sure what made you think [Soft Construction with Boiled Beans](http://www.philamuseum.org/collections/permanent/51315.html) was an appropriate gift for a newborn, but I imagine it was the same thought process that made you send it to the home of _an FBI agent._ You’re lucky Peter believed me when I said it was a fake. 

“So when do you think you can come and get it? The thing is giving me the heebie-jeebies. Seriously.”

\----

Thank you for your time.


End file.
